Advice of Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 1) by Debra Trueman

like it was more out of desperation
than anything.
    I put my arm around her.  “Why don’t we go outside and drink
our coffee.”
    We went out on Landra’s back porch and drank coffee and talked
for the next two hours.  It took her 30 minutes to bring up the events of the
previous night, and when she finally did, it was apparent she was very
distraught.  She put on a brave front and, although I could tell she was
fighting tears through much of the conversation, not once did she actually
break down and cry.  I almost felt like I should tell her it was okay to cry,
but then I would have been encouraging what I had always considered to be
woman’s greatest weakness.  Resorting to tears rarely helped matters, but in this
case I felt she was justified, not because it would solve anything, but because
I knew she needed the emotional release.  Of course, I knew of a more pleasant
method of release, but I didn’t think that sex was appropriate considering the
timing, so I opted to keep my mouth shut and if she had ended up crying, I
would have been sympathetic towards her.   But she never did and I must admit I
was very impressed.
    Landra was worried about what was going to happen, not only
with the police, but with her friends and especially with the media.  As her
attorney, I tried to reassure her that if the police had thought it was
anything other than self-defense, they would not have let her go home the
previous night.  And as her friend , for lack of a better word to describe
our relationship, I told her that if the people she was worried about were true
friends, they would rally to her side and if they didn’t, they weren’t worth
worrying about.  As for the media . . . that was different.  They could spin
the story either way, but knowing Landra, she’d come out on top on that one
too.  I was always one to avoid the limelight, but I could just imagine Landra
basking in it.
    By 10:00 o’clock, we had exhausted the subject of Drake Reeds’
demise and all I could think of was food.  “Can I go home now?  Because if
you’re going to make me stay here any longer, you’re going to have to feed me.”
    “I’m sorry.  I should have offered you something.  I don’t have
any appetite and I just didn’t even think about it.  Are you starving?”
    Damn she was cute.  And I don’t usually like to use that word
to describe a woman, but Landra was. I could just envision myself accidentally
proposing to her if I wasn’t careful.
    “Hell yes, I’m starving!” I told her.  “You made me miss out on
my hot muffins two hours ago.  Next time you shove someone out the window,
we’re staying at my place.”
    Landra laughed.  “Maybe next time, I’ll shove you out
the window.”
    “Come here,” I said.  I pulled her over onto my lap and hugged
her, and she leaned her head against my chest.  The girl was getting to me big
time.  I could feel my chest constrict at the thought of anything bad happening
to her, and I knew that she wouldn’t come through this thing unscathed.  “Are
you going to paint my walls tomorrow?”
    She nodded her head without lifting it off of my chest, and I
realized she was crying.  I ran my fingers through her hair, smoothing it back
off her face, and I squeezed her tighter.   “It’s okay to cry, Landra.  Just
let it out. It’s what you need.”
    And that’s exactly what she did.  She sat there in my lap and
cried her eyes out while I held her in my arms, and by the time she finished, I
almost felt like crying too.  I hated seeing her so distraught.  It made me
wish Drake was still alive so I could kill the bastard myself.
    “You’re going to be okay, Landra,” I told her, when she had
calmed down.
    “I know.  Thanks, Sam,” she said, into my chest.
    “What are you doing today?”  I didn’t want to leave her.
    “I need to go by Sara’s later this morning and then . . . I
don’t know.”
    “Why don’t you come over and get started on my walls